


Collecting the Pieces

by wingedflower



Series: I Want to Break Free [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Claustrophobia, Claustrophobic Lance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Langst, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13419873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedflower/pseuds/wingedflower
Summary: Lance isn't back to himself after everything that had happened on the Galra ship. He has trouble sleeping, he is constantly stressed and it's all just too much. He feels like he is falling apart and no one seems to know how to help him.But his friends are willing to do everything to glue him back together. Will they succeed?





	Collecting the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fourth part in my series about Lance's claustrophobia. Since this is the concluding part (or, at least it's supposed to be, my brain can always come up with more ideas in the future because I have absolutely no control over it :P), it is advised to read the previous parts if you hadn't done that.
> 
> This starts out rather depressing, but it gets better in the end. I promise. After all, I'm physically unable to write angst without a happy ending.

Ever since Lance has come to terms with his claustrophobia, he was able to live with it somehow. It wasn't particularly fun, of course – getting stressed every time he even got close to a small room or narrow passage – but it was manageable. The fact that his friends knew about his problem and accepted him as he was has helped a lot. He didnt have to deal with this alone, and that was enough to give him some comfort.

But then they went to the abandoned Galra ship and he got himself trapped and nearly died. _Again_.

And that was when things started to get worse.

Because every incident like that has left him a little more shaken; has created a few more cracks in his soul. And he was starting to break under the pressure.

And as much as his friends loved him and supported him, it was simply not enough anymore.

He wasn't able to sleep in his room during the week of his recovery. The others understood - considering the recent events, it only made sense for him not to want to spend the night in the small, windowless room. Hunk had even suggested a common sleepover in the lounge – it was something they used to do from time to time anyway – and everybody immediately pitched in, knowing how much being with other people had a reassuring influence on Lance.

But apparently a simple sleepover couldn't fix everything. Lance had trouble sleeping despite the presence of his friends in the big, open lounge. He would wake up several times a night, screaming and crying and thrashing in his blankets as if they were suffocating him, which only made him more hysterical. The others tried their best to calm him down, but it took time, and after a few nights like that the lack of sleep was starting to take its toll on the rest of the paladins as well.

Eventually it came to Lance going to Coran and asking if there was some sort of sleep medication he could give him. He murmured his request with a barely audible voice, eyes cast down in shame. But Coran only smiled in understanding and handed him a vial of some colorless Altean syrup, promising it would ensure him a sweet, dreamless sleep and no, it tasted nothing like Nunvil. The syrup did help Lance sleep more soundly (perhaps even _too_ soundly, as sometimes Lance would wake up only after his tenth alarm, and even then his mind would be so groggy he'd simply lie and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes until he realized where he was), but he still refused to go back to his room.

He knew it was stupid; mainly because out of all the paladins, he was the one who worked the hardest to make his room more home-like, with all the souvenirs and photos he saved from planets they had visited, the video game system, the assortment of lotions and beauty products and the hand-made quilts he'd sewn to himself once he found the right materials in the castle. It only made sense for him to feel safe there, to find comfort in this familiar environment – especially when compared to the empty lounge, with its plain couches and bare walls.

But he couldn't find comfort in any of those things anymore. The only thing he was able to think of every time he stepped into his room was how _small_ it was (which was truly ridiculous, because it was actually as twice as big as his room on Earth, which he used to share with two of his brothers). He couldn't shake the sickening feeling that the walls were closing on him, that the automatic door was going to suddenly malfunction and lock him inside until the oxygen ran out… no, there was no way he could stay there, he simply couldn't, he _wouldn't._

So he stayed at the lounge. After a while he didn't even bother to take the blankets back to his room every morning – he just left them there on one of the couches, along with his pajamas, headphones and face masks. No one in the castle made any comment or reprimanded him for that, but Lance knew it was an inconvenience. The lounge was meant for either debriefing or leisure time, and it was hard for everyone to focus with Lance practically camping in there, his stuff scattered all over the place. Not to mention the times they were supposed to have a group meeting in the morning and walked right on Lance, who was still passed out on the couch after failing to wake up on time, all thanks to the sleep potion.

It was irritating and embarrassing and Lance felt a hot wave of shame and frustration every time he thought about it, but he couldn't help it. He knew he was being pathetic, but he was simply too weak to fight it. Such a paladin of Voltron he was.

Some nights were so bad that even the sleep potion didn't rid him of his nightmares. During those nights, even the wide walls of the lounge would become too crowded. Lance would then leap out of his blankets and stumble breathlessly across the castle until he found himself in the observatory, as the huge window from which he could see the stars outside was the only thing that managed to calm him down. He would usually end up falling asleep on the cold, hard floor under the window, and wake up hours later with aching muscles and a bitter taste in his mouth.

The worst part was that Lance's new trauma was starting to interfere with their work. He did pretty well on training once his leg was healed (or, as well as he could with all the sleep deprivation), but missions were a whole different story. Ever since the incident on the Galra ship Lance was terrified of boarding another one, even though they had completely neglected the idea of exploring abandoned ships and focused only on those operated by actual Galra. But despite the fact that this kind of ship would probably have a reasonable level of maintenance, without collapsing floors or any other malfunctions, Lance couldn't bear the thought of going there again. It was nearly as scary as the cryopods.

Realizing it couldn't be helped and that it was better to keep Lance away from these places than force him inside and deal with him freaking out in the middle of battle, the team agreed to let him stay behind in Blue and provide backup fire. Lance _loathed_ this new position; he may have been a long-range fighter, but he always did it from the ground, covering his fellow paladins as they made their way towards the enemy. Being tucked safely in his lion while the others were fighting face-to-face with the Galra, risking their lives… it was just not right. It made him feel like a useless jerk. But he couldn't do anything about it, because the alternative has sent waves of panic through his body to the point his legs went weak and his stomach nearly flipped over.

There was also the issue of cryopods, of course; after all, the fact Lance stayed in his lion during missions didn't make him immune to injuries. He may have managed to avoid getting hurt in close combat, but the blue lion was still a preferred target for enemy ships. One time the cockpit took a direct hit from behind, so powerful that Lance's body was wrenched forward and his head smashed right into the dashboard, sending him unconscious for several minutes. His helmet did keep his head from splitting open like a watermelon, but it was still quite a hit, if only judging by the blood that covered half of Lance's face as soon as Shiro dragged him out and pulled his helmet off.

Lance insisted through gritted teeth that he was fine, that he didn't have a concussion (even if his speech was slightly slurred and Shiro's face kept doubling itself in front of his eyes), that it was only a scratch and he would be fine with some stitches. But Shiro – as well as Allura and Coran – refused to take any risks when it came to head injuries, and insisted he would step into a pod immediately.

Long story short, Lance had such a panic attack upon merely looking at the pods (which, combined with the state his head was in, was _not_ a pretty sight) that Coran had no choice but sedate him before they put him in one. However, Lance's brain activity spiked through the entire recovery process, indicating that he was having nightmares even in the induced coma.

When he was finally released from the pod the day after, he stumbled out with a terrified gasp and collapsed straight into Hunk's arms, shaking like a leaf. He was such a mess that the yellow paladin had to support him all the way to the lounge, where he cried himself to exhaustion and passed out for the rest of the day.

Lance _hated_ that his friends had to see him in this state. He knew no one was judging nor blaming him – everyone has made that clear since the very first time he had a breakdown. But it didn't make him feel any better. He felt weak and vulnerable and stupid, unable to get his shit together over the silliest things like sleeping in his own goddamn room.

Besides, the fact they weren't blaming him did not mean they could simply ignore the whole situation. He could see the pity in their eyes every time he had another nightmare or panic attack, could hear the hushed whispers behind his back when they thought he was too out of it to listen. But Lance knew they were talking about him, and it made his eyes burn and his chest hurt. He was a burden, a problem that needed to be solved because it was holding everyone back. But no one – including Lance himself – seemed to know _how_ to solve it. Hugs and reassuring words helped to some extent, but they didn't make the fear go away.

The look Shiro gave him during those times was the worst. Shiro had been Lance's hero long before they all met, and he also had been through so much worse compared to Lance. He had been held captive by the Galra for an entire _year_ , forced to fight for his life in the arena and having experiments performed on him and who knows what else. And yet he still managed to be an amazing leader who almost never made a mistake, who knew exactly what to say every time one of the other paladins needed a shoulder to cry on, and who was able to push his own demons aside to offer nothing but support and understanding. Sure, sometimes he lapsed into a flashback, but it never came to a total breakdown like it did for Lance. _Shiro_ wasn't afraid of entering Galra ships and bases, even though he spent his entire captivity in them; hell, he was there to comfort Lance after having his foot crushed even though the infirmary was far from being a pleasant place for him, as he admitted a while ago.

Lance wished he could be more like Shiro; but all he seemed to do was disappoint him. There was no heat in Shiro's eyes when he looked at the blue paladin, only pain and sorrow and worse than that – _guilt,_ as if he was somehow responsible for Lance's claustrophobia. Lance hated himself even more for making his leader feel that way.

Blue managed to help a bit more, somehow. The times Lance meditated with her – which he did on a daily basis now – were the only times he managed to feel real peace. Not with himself – he wasn't there yet, because no matter how much she tried to convince him otherwise with her endless love and compassion, he still didn't feel deserving of the title 'paladin' - but he could finally allow himself to let his guard down, if only for a while. He was always so _tense_ these days, hyper-attentive to every sound and creak the castle has made, as if something was going to suddenly go wrong and trap him inside. Every time he entered a room his eyes started immediately to scan it, looking for possible emergency exits. It was _exhausting_ ; it was simply too much noise _._ Blue's presence at least managed to tune it out for a bit.

But again, it wasn't enough. Lance loved his lion, but he couldn't spend the rest of his life in the cockpit. He had to get out at some point and face the world. Face his worst fears.

But it was hard, so hard it seemed impossible at times, and it was wearing him down. He felt like he was crumbling from the inside, piece by piece, and knew it was only a matter of time until he completely fell apart, dragging the rest of the team with him.

And then who would protect the universe?

*

Lance was inside his lion when Pidge came to get him.

"Lance, you in there?" he heard her calling him from the hangar.

Lance pulled himself to a stand and peeked outside through the latch in Blue's jaws. "What's up?"

"You need to come to the infirmary now. We have a meeting."

Lance quirked an eyebrow. "In the infirmary?" He knew the lounge wasn't exactly fit for meetings since he'd taken over it, but the infirmary was even less so.

Pidge chewed the inside of her cheek before speaking again. "Yeah. We, um, want to show you something."

Lance felt as if a block of ice has settled into his chest. If there was something everyone wanted to show specifically to _him_ , specifically in the infirmary… his stomach twisted in a sense of foreboding.

"W-what is it?" he asked, hating how he couldn't even hide the quiver in his voice.

Pidge sighed and shifted her weight from leg to leg. "Look, it's kind of complicated and I'd really prefer to explain it all once, so can you just come with me? You have nothing to worry about, I swear."

The last sentence only worried Lance further; but Blue gave his mind a small nudge of encouragement, telling him that trusting his friends was the right thing to do. And that was enough for him to climb out and follow Pidge.

Once they entered the infirmary he saw everyone standing in a row next to one of the pods, which was wide open. They all looked at him with varying degrees of nervousness (Hunk tried to smile at him, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes), and Lance flinched back.

"Is this some kind of intervention?" He joked lamely, his voice about an octave higher than usual.

No one laughed at his quip, but Coran stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Lance, the reason we brought you here is because we believe we have found a way to modify the healing pods so your stay in them, if needed, would be much more pleasant than it had been thus far. It took us a couple of weeks, but we truly believe the method we came up with will be of great help to you and we'd like to test it now, if you're up to it".

Lance felt his mouth go dry at once. They wanted him to go into a pod again. They wanted to… to lock him inside and…

He didn't even realize he had walked backwards until his back touched the wall of the infirmary. "I-I don't want to," he blurted out, wringing his hands. _So weak. So pathetic._

"Lance, please," Allura said and Lance could tell she was trying very hard to keep her voice calm in order not to scare him further, even though she probably wanted nothing more than to shove him into the pod and get this over with. "Pidge, Hunk and Coran have all worked so hard on this. If there is any problem they will make sure to fix it, but we cannot know until you try."

Lance really could not argue with that, but a quick glance at the open pod was enough to make all logic disappear from his mind. He shook his head instinctively as his breath started to hitch. _Don't panic. Keep it together. Now is_ not _the time._

"Lance, listen to me," Hunk was speaking now. He approached Lance slowly as if he was dealing with a wounded animal. "We've tested it a dozen times. It's completely safe. It'll be no more than a few ticks and then we'll get you out, I _promise_. Please, buddy, you gotta give it a shot."

Lance's heart clenched at the pleading tone of his friend, and he wanted to believe him, he truly did, but he couldn't find the strength to do so. All he could do was shake his head again.

"Lance." Shiro was the one who stepped forward now, passing Hunk until he was standing right in front of Lance. "I know this is hard. I know you're scared. And, as much as I hate to say that, I can't guarantee nothing will go wrong. But there _is_ one thing I know for sure, and I want you to know it too." He looked right into Lance's eyes. "We will never, _ever_ do anything to hurt you. I'm asking you to trust me on this one."

And whether it was due to the steady gaze in Shiro's eyes, which radiated all the confidence and sincerity in the universe, or the weary expressions on everyone else's faces - Lance suddenly realized two things.

One, Shiro was right; his friends would _never_ hurt him. They only wanted to help. They treated him with nothing but trust and support ever since his claustrophobia was revealed, and it was about time he returned the favor and trust them too.

And two, Lance's claustrophobia was not only affecting him. It was messing up their whole group. They had a mission to complete – defeat the Galra and free the universe – and they couldn't do it as long as Lance was in at such a dysfunctional state. He _needed_ to get better – not only for his own sake, but for his friends' sake as well.

He had to at least try.

Lance took a deep breath and took a step forward. "Okay," he said in the steadiest voice he could manage. "I'm ready."

Shiro smiled encouragingly and patted him on the shoulder while the others released a collective sigh of relief.

"Excellent!" Coran declared brightly. "So, here's what's going to happen, Number Three: you will step inside the pod, and then we will close the door and wait… thirty ticks, I suppose, until we let you out? Would that be enough?" he turned the question to Pidge, who nodded frantically as she settled on the floor, laptop balanced on her lap. "Alright, thirty ticks it is. Let us begin then; whenever you're ready."

Lance opened his mouth to speak again but all he managed was an unintelligible gurgle, so he coughed and tried again. "And what if it's… if…" his voice died down and once again he had to push down a wave of nausea.

"We're going to be here the entire time," Pidge rushed to say. "Nothing is going to go wrong; but if it does, we'll open the door right away. It really can't get any safer than that, trust me." She smiled at him and Lance felt a tiny drop of warmth slipping down the icy block of terror that wrapped around his chest and threatened to paralyze him.

He stood in front of the open pod, scanning it through narrowed eyes. It looked pretty normal to him; he couldn't spot any changes or modifications. Swallowing hard, he placed one foot in it, then braced his palm against the inner wall. He took another steadying breath, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded in his ears, then brought his other leg around, shuffling forward until his entire body was inside.

He turned around to face the infirmary, staring at his friends nervously. They all gave him reassuring smiles and thumbs-up – even Keith was trying his best, although it came out pretty awkward and Lance would have probably laughed if he hadn't been busy freaking out.

"We are about to close the door now," Coran said gently. "Do you approve, Lance?"

Lance didn't trust himself to voice out his answer so he only nodded stiffly.

"Alrighty then. As I said, it will only be thirty ticks. See you soon." And with that Coran pushed a button at the side of the pod, and the glass door went down with a _swoosh._

Lance's first instinct was to flinch away from the walls, to make himself as small as possible so they wouldn't press on him.

But the pressure never came.

Also, the walls weren't there anymore.

As soon as the pod's door was closed Lance found himself standing in the middle of a wide, stunning beach. Soft, white sand brushed gently against his shoes; a group of palm trees stood a few feet away from him, their leaves rustling in the light breeze; the sky was the clearest shade of blue he had ever seen and so was the ocean, which stretched far beyond the horizon, and after a few moments he realized he could actually _smell_ the salt. He took a large inhale, breathing it all in and feeling the knot in his chest suddenly loosen for the first time in who knows how long. He tilted his head backwards, relishing in the warm sun that stroked his face like a loving hand.

It all looked, smelled and felt just like Earth.

Just like home.

And there was nothing scary or threatening about home; there was only warmth and sunlight and freedom and _peace_.

Lance was just about to take another gulp of this wonderful, refreshing air when suddenly the beach vanished and he found himself stumbling forward with a surprised yelp, bumping into what he recognized a moment later as Coran's chest.

"Easy now, Number Three," Coran cooed and pulled Lance to a stand, wrapping one arm around his shoulders for support. "Our thirty ticks are over and as promised, you're back with us here at the infirmary. How do you feel?"

Lance blinked several times. He was still quite disoriented, but the heaviness didn't return to his chest, to his relief. "Wh-wha… what just happened," he stammered.

"You didn't like it?" Hunk's eyebrows shot up anxiously.

Lance coughed, trying again to compose himself. "That's not it," he said clumsily. "I… it was actually kind of amazing. I just don't… I mean… did you guys just teleport me to a beach or what?"

"Not exactly," Pidge touched her glasses, looking more than pleased to take over the scientific part of the conversation. "You were in the pod this whole time. The beach was simply an illusion we uploaded into the pod and programmed it to run it the second a healing process was initiated. Like virtual reality, basically."

Lance stared at her, even more confused than before. "But… it felt so _real_ ," he insisted. He had experience with virtual reality back at the Garrison; all the flight simulators worked that way. But it wasn't nearly as realistic as this one. Lance could not only see, but also hear and smell and even _taste_ the salty air. Or did he imagine all that?

"That's what so great about Altean techonology," Pidge said with a smirk. "You can do some pretty awesome stuff with it."

"Pidge and I worked on choosing the right scenery," Hunk chimed in. "We wanted it to be as close as possible to the real thing. After that, Coran helped us copying it to the pod's system. Those things involve some really crazy programming, so it took some time to make it actually work."

"We were also monitoring your brain activity while you were inside," Coran said and gestured towards Pidge's laptop. "During the first few ticks you appeared to be quite nervous, but once you realized where you were your brainwaves have calmed down significantly, showing values similar to the regular sleep-like state the pods impose."

Lance was at a total loss of words. Pidge, Hunk and Coran did all of this for _him?_ The way they described it, it probably took them nearly all their free time, and yet they have managed to come up with the perfect solution for him – so perfect he was actually tempted to go back inside and spend some more time on this wonderful beach.

He released a long breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Guys, I don't know what to say," he admitted. "This is so… I mean, this is absolutely _amazing._ I-I can never thank you enough."

"Aw, there's no need to," Hunk smiled – this time for real - and rubbed Lance's back. "We're just really glad you liked it."

"Is it possible to upload this to the rest of the pods?" Shiro asked, watching them all with an amused grin. "It sounds like something we can all enjoy."

Coran tinkered with his moustache. "Well, since everything seems to be working properly, I believe this is indeed possible."

"Maybe you can do a different illusion for each pod," Keith suggested. "I mean, if that's not too much of a bother…" his ears went slightly pink.

"Not at all," Hunk reassured him. "We've already written the program, so all we have to do is enter different images."

"Wait a second," Lance said suddenly, furrowing his brow. "Where did you even get those images?" It had to be from somewhere on Earth; there was no way there was another planet in the universe with beaches like that.

"Oh, this is actually the coolest part," Pidge said. "The castle's database stores thousands of images from all kinds of planets, but as we went through the list, nothing seemed quite right. So, we ended up extracting these specific images from the blue lion's memory."

Lance's jaw dropped. "from _Blue?_ "

"A-ha. She was hidden on Earth for ten thousand years, remember? So, apparently her memory contains images from all around the planet."

"This is also why it felt so much more realistic than any other image the castle could provide," Allura said, her eyes sparkling in excitement. "The lions are able to store not only images, but entire experiences: voices, scents, even feelings. We are talking about actual memories, in which the lion's own quintessence is reflected." Allura smiled warmly at Lance. "Thus, to put it simply, the pod's program now contains tiny bits of Blue's quintessence. Perhaps not enough to be able to connect with her during the healing process, but hopefully enough to put your mind at ease so the pod can do its work."

The cryopod was loaded with Blue's quintessence? Lance suddenly felt the urge to sit down. This was all too much. He knew his friends cared about him, but he would never guess they'd go to such lengths only to help him overcome his fear of the pods – something he hadn't allowed himself to believe was possible until two minutes ago.

And if _that_ was possible, then maybe…

Maybe he could finally get better.

"Lance? You okay?" Shiro's voice pulled him back to reality. Lance jumped and ran a hand through his hair again, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Y-yeah," he said weakly. "I just… I still can't believe you guys actually found something that works _. Thank you._ So, so much."

"You're welcome." Pidge reached out a hand to shake his, but once Lance caught it he pulled her up and forced her into a tight hug, causing her laptop to slide to the floor.

" _Whoa!_ " Pidge called as her face was mashed uncomfortably against Lance's chest. "Dude, you nearly broke my computer! Give a girl a warning next time!"

"Stop ruining the moment," Lance ordered.

Pidge groaned. "Jerk," she muttered and patted Lance's back awkwardly, smiling in spite of herself.

"Hey, how come only Pidge gets a hug?" Hunk grunted, and Lance instantly waved his hand in an inviting gesture. Hunk squeaked happily and collided with Pidge's other side, earning another indignant groan from the small girl.

"Um, sorry to ruin the moment again," Shiro said, "But we have another surprise for you, Lance, so you might want to let Hunk and Pidge go in the near future."

Lance's eyes widened as Pidge wasted no time wriggling herself free from the hug, muttering to herself about stupid boys always trying to squeeze the air out of her lungs with their stupid hugs. "Another surprise?"

"Indeed," Coran said. "I suppose you hadn't visited your room recently?"

Lance pursed his lips and cast his eyes down. No, he hadn't. After coming to terms with the fact he has pretty much moved into the lounge, he saw no point in entering his old room again; it would only bring back painful memories and remind him of how pathetic he was. He didn't even feel like playing his video game anymore.

"Well, come with us then," Allura said cheerfully. "We've done some… upgrades, you can put it that way. We have no doubts you'll love it."

A few minutes later they all stood at the door to Lance's room. Lance eyed it nervously, stomach flipping for no apparent reason. But everyone else looked pretty excited, so that had to be a good sign, right?

"Number Three, welcome to your new room," Coran announced ceremoniously and pressed the opening button. The door slid open and Lance took a hesitant step inside, only to come to an abrupt stop when his gaze met the wall in front of him.

There was something on that wall that wasn't there before.

It was a window.

It stretched over the entire upper half of the wall, and all the stars outside could be seen through it, bright and clear.

Lance turned back to his team, the smiles on their faces only growing at his utter shock.

"How…" was all he managed to say.

"Well, the paladins' quarters are actually located in one of the peripheral corridors of the castle," Allura said. "So it was not much of a problem. To be honest, it is quite a shame they did not have windows in the first place."

"Number One and Number Four did most of the work here," Coran said and squeezed both Shiro and Keith's shoulders. "I must say, these two are very good with renovation work."

"I had no idea Keith was such a talented glazier," Shiro said and nudged Keith's side playfully. The latter mumbled something inaudible and stared down at his feet, cheeks bright red.

"This doesn't mean you have to move back here right away," Hunk rushed to say. "You can still sleep in the lounge if you don't feel ready yet. But… maybe this will make it easier? Even a little?" he asked hopefully.

Lance felt a sudden sting behind his eyes and he squeezed them shut, trying to contain the wave of emotion that was threatening to drown him. And he thought the pod was too much…

What did he do to deserve friends like these?

"Lance?" Coran asked gently.

Lance shook his head as he realized that no, he couldn't stop his tears anymore. "Thank you," he choked and hid his face in his hands as it all started to spill out. "F-for everything."

It was probably the hundredth time in the past few weeks Lance has found himself crying in someone's arms (Hunk was the first one to reach him, quickly followed by the others), but it was the first time that he didn't care; that he didn't feel like a total loser.

All he felt was safe and loved and, for a change, _hopeful._

He knew he wasn't going to get better at once. He knew it would take time; that his fears couldn't be resolved by a simple window or virtual reality; that he still had so many obstacles to overcome before he was back to himself - _if_ he was ever completely back to himself.

But it was a start.

And if his friends believed in him enough to make all these changes for him, well, he had no choice but believe in himself too.

*

Things got a bit easier with every passing day.

Lance's first step was to settle back in his room. He still had nightmares from time to time, but a short sit by the windowsill, where space was spread in front of him like an endless blanket of stars, was enough to slow down his heartbeat and even out his breaths until he was able to go back to sleep. At some point he even stopped using the sleep potion.

After a few weeks of mostly peaceful sleep he started to join the others on their infiltration missions. They did it gradually: at first he was assigned to simply secure the main deck until the rest of the paladins returned from the belly of the ship. After two missions like that, he started to accompany them into the ship itself, making sure to avoid tight spaces of any kind; He wasn't ready to deal with those just yet.

With every mission he grew a little more confident, was able to breathe a little more easily. With every mission he found himself focusing more on the task at hand and less on his surroundings - the walls, the floor, the doors, anything that could suddenly move and trap him inside. This possibility did occupy some part of his mind, but it didn't bother him to the point he couldn't function. In fact, his thoughts were clearer than they have been in a very long time.

One time he broke his arm. It was silly, honestly – he slipped while running from a group of sentries and landed wrong on his side. But the thought of entering a pod didn't send him panicking anymore. Sure, a visit to the infirmary was never fun, but it wasn't a total nightmare either. It was simply something he needed to get through - only now he had the tools to do so.

Some days were harder than others. Some nights were especially bad and nothing seemed to help. But those nights were few now. He was getting better, slowly but surely.

And he knew that even if he did break apart again, his friends would be there to glue him back together. Piece by piece.

And with this knowledge, his world didn't feel so constricting anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I gotta say, I'm pretty proud of myself for the solution I found to the pod problem. :D Getting injured sounds so much fun now, am I right? Also, this is the second time I write Pidge being nearly sandwiched to death by Hunk and Lance. I wonder why I like this scene so much.
> 
> I had so much fun writing this series. I never planned to continue the first one-shot, but... well, things happened, as you all see. I do hope I managed to make it right for Lance after everything I've put him through, lol. Things aren't perfect because sadly overcoming one's trauma isn't so easy, but they are certainly getting better, so I'm pretty satisfied with this conclusion. I hope you guys are too.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who stuck around and left kudos or comments! Please take the time to leave comments here as well. They mean so much to me.


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